


The Days That Pass The Fastest

by CannibalKitten



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Depression, Fluff, Intermission, M/M, Sadstuck, Self-Harm, Suicide Attempt, Why Did I Write This?, comatose sollux, i'm a monster, solkar OTP, we're done here
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-05
Updated: 2015-10-28
Packaged: 2018-04-24 21:41:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,240
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4936324
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CannibalKitten/pseuds/CannibalKitten
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sollux didn't answer Trollian, Karkat got worried. After arriving at Sollux's hive, he found him passed out on the ground. He was still breathing, but wouldn't wake up, leaving Karkat to take care of him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Foreword

**Author's Note:**

> Fluff. Some sadstuck at the beginning because I'm a piece of shit that doesn't like sadness.

You visit him every day. He's made it necessary. He's a mess, you only feel that your presence is necessary. Sitting next to him, quietly humming songs that you heard in movies. You weren't sure exactly if they were in the correct key or that you put them in the right order, but you tried. Just for him. With no one else would you entrust your life, for no one else would you quietly sing. He never said a word to you, but you promised yourself that one day he would. Just for you.

He was quiet, his eyes were shut. You've no idea when he ate last. You only hope that he's being taken care of. You walked into the respite block, sitting quietly next to the cushioned rectangle he had been set upon, in case he woke up. You brought him some movies. They were your favourites. He used to watch them with you so you would stop bothering him about it. The memory makes you give a small smile. He's been so close for so long, your best friend. You feel like you've been closer to him, lately. Willing him to wake up and share the times that your past-selves share. You look at him and sigh, feeling that maybe this is all in vain. That he may never wake up. That you may never hear that voice that you complained about so much, the one that secretly brought you a strange sense of comfort and company, again.

You reach out and hold his hand, warm. Warm. The only hope that you can cling to, that he's still alive. Letting go, you clear your throat. You've started to make a habit of finding new hobbies of crafts and piteous gestures so he knows that his best friend missed him, that someone was checking up on him. You know that no one else quite cares as much as you do, not by a long-shot. You've started leaving various hand-made objects around his block. Items that you used to have thought were useless and stupid, but you realize, in that small part of you that loves romance and cheesy acts, the sentiment behind them. You arranged them on his desk so he could see them all, various little drawings that you drew of him and the things around you, items made of tar shaped in various ways. You left him some cotton candy one day. Upon closer examination, you realize that it's hard and sticky. You left it more than a month ago.

You walk back to him and look at him, deciding that he looked content. You wish that you could draw better, that you could capture each rested feature of his face. You don't need to, however. You have him in front of you. You remove his glasses and set them on the desk, turning to look at him once more. You can feel your cheeks growing warm as you stare at him. How long has he been like this? So unfairly condemned to a place he can't escape, a place he can't leave just to see you, to see you crying and wishing that he hadn't left. You've been so lonely without him, taking no time to speak to anyone else, lest he wake up or die. You can feel tears running slowly down your cheeks and you run a hand through your hair. Would he comfort you if he were awake? Hold you? Say that he won't leave you alone again? You don't know. You comfort yourself by sitting next to him, wrapping his arm around you and sobbing. You want him to wake up.

You're sitting quietly next to him for a long time, enjoying the rhythmic sound of his breathing, the feel of his pulse, his warmth, him. Your eyes begin to shut, the weight of calmness making you tired, thoughts dancing across your mind as you drift off. Pondering, wandering, wondering, wondering if you'll see him once you fall asleep. After sleep passes quicker than it came, you awake to the same devastating thoughts. He wasn't there, you aren't with him. Just his body. You want him to smile for you, a shit-eating smirk that you love and despise and miss, something to make his face show life. You want to see him smile again, just for you. You want him to wake up to your singing and remember the songs you've been singing, repeating them drowsily and charmingly.

You stand to check the time. Hours have passed. It's time to leave. You only wish you could stay longer, but smaller matters must be tended to all the same. You turn back to him for a moment before deciding you will do something more. You pull some paper from the drawer on his desk, as well as a pen. You jot down a small note to him and mark the date, leaving it on the desk and walking to him one more time, giving him an embrace that isn't returned. You give a sigh as you part, exiting for your own hive.


	2. What is it like?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sollux's POV

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This may have should have been the foreword.

How long had it been since you had some contact? You were so painfully lonely in the strangest way. You could hear the voices, but they meant nothing. They spoke not to you, they just sung their depressing laments, which made you even more unnerved. You know people who speak to you, those who are embodied, alive, here. They don't carry the comfort that they _could_. You don't know why you desire someone closer, someone to speak to you as more than a friend. Not romance, simply someone to speak to you as if you mattered.

Of course it was your fault, hiding the crippling feelings from them. They're acquaintances. You simply show your outer shell, playful, clever, sarcastic. They all respond accordingly and go no further. They seem so distant, so far, so foreign. You only wish that your best friend knew how you felt about him, because it was even worse then. Of course you wanted a friend, but the more painful of the two is when you have a friend but are too embarrassed to stay near them. You wish that it wasn't like this, that you hadn't thought of him as more than a best friend, that you hadn't pushed him away when he simply wanted to be with you. You were only worried that you would do something stupid, say something wrong, mention something that made him uncomfortable. It was only for him, and now he might think you hate him.

This depression has been leaking into your every day life. You've been eating less, you've been sleeping less, you've been talking to your friends more cryptically. You've even wondered what it's like to die. To sing the laments of the recently perished, to feel this disgusting mutant body slip away, to be a concept rather than a biological item. You wonder if you'll be less lonely in the next life, if you'll even need friends in the next life, if you'll even have a next life. You wonder if it will hurt to die, if it will carry into death, if you will be eternally writhing. You wonder if you'll be able to wander Alternia just like you were alive. You wonder what it's like to die.

You've been experimenting with your body. Wondering what your pain tolerance is, wondering what it's like to have these things happen. You don't accumulate sharp objects or weapons, so you just have a nutrition block knife in your hand. You've got cuts and dates written in pen all over your arm. You slice a few more, wincing and watching the blood drip. You've gotten quite deep. You hate it. You just want to see yourself writhe, your disgusting, hideous self.

You hear that someone's messaging you. You give a soft sigh and break out of your stupour, looking at your husk top. He's messaging you. You don't want to, but what else would you do? You don't want him to think that you hate him, you really don't. You answer him and he leaves soon. He doesn't seem to like you anymore. You've been more melancholy, though. Only to him. You wanted to share that you were depressed, but he only left you when you needed him. You sigh and stand, walking to the ablution trap. It's time, you decide, time that you see what it's like.

Cabinet after cabinet, stable drug after stable drug, you finally found a bottle. You read the label. If you ingest more than two in 12 hours, call for help. There are 5 left. You open the bottle and run some water, taking two at a time. Three large gulps of water later, you're waiting. You walk to your desk again and sit. He's still messaging you. Something about you being more of an idiot than usual, something about ignoring him. You feel your pulse rise. You're a bit out of breath, like you've run somewhere. You're sweating too. You only walked from the bathroom, but you feel out of breath. You feel nauseous, too. You run to the bathroom, making you exhausted. You're panting and leaning over the trap and feeling yourself work up bile, retching and gasping and sobbing. Yes, this is very painful. You have more of a headache than usual and your vision is getting blurry. You feel lightheaded, all of your thoughts are racing, you can't focus on one thing. You surrender and fall to the ground, confused and tired, eyes drooping shut and leading you into a painful rest.

[POV swap <3~]

What was wrong with him? He's been so depressing lately and now he won't even respond to you? You only want to speak, but he's bringing you down. Making you depressed. You sigh and give up trying to message him. If he doesn't respond by tomorrow, you'll just visit him and see what's going on. He's probably busy coding or something, and if that's so, you really envy him. He's so talented at that, and you're pretty jealous. In a friendly way, even if he does take little jabs at you for not being as good as him.

You ponder more about him. You've known him for a while, and you wonder why he even bothers with you, even if he hasn't been as cool recently. He's got a cool, sarcastic, assholish personality. Clever, devilish, charming. It made him charming. You're pretty sure you know like 5 people who have crushes on him, and you get a bit jealous when he hangs out with them, that they might steal your best friend. You give a slight huff, wondering if that's why he's been so weird to you lately. He doesn't like you as much as he did, does he? You rub your eyes with your fist and sigh. You've gotten drowsy, and maybe you can sleep your silly paranoia off. You stand and strip on your way to the recuperacoon, yawning softly as you climb into its warm embrace. You wonder if you'll see him tomorrow.

Little to no time seems to pass before you have consciousness once more, mind racing curiously. You decide that you are awake and crawl out of your recuperacoon, trying to get off excess sopor slime to prevent too much dripping on your way to the ablution block. You walk down the hall and step in, turning on the shower and feeling for it to warm up. You step in with a sigh, the returning warmth soothing you more. You scrub your body clean of the mess, and wash your hair while you're at it. After cleaning up, you turn off the shower and step out, drying off and returning to your block. You look at your husk top and notice that Sollux hasn't responded, which is strange, considering he wakes up much earlier than you on a normal basis. You decide to visit him, getting dressed quickly and walking to his hive.

You walk quickly, mind racing with possibilities, mild or terrible, good or bad. You reach his hive and knock on the door a few times, opening it with the key he gifted you a long while ago. You shut it behind you and walk to his block, hive memorized by the numerous times you've been there. You look in and see no one in the recuperacoon, no noises of tapping on a keyboard, nothing. You begin to search more until you reach the ablution block, pressing your ear against the door. Not a sound was made, and so you opened the door, staring in horror at what you saw.


	3. Treasured

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Karkat finds his treasure.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter summaries are a bitch without being spoilers p H p

Of course you woke up the next day and immediately visited Sollux. Your little not on the desk remained untouched, and you took it upon yourself to write another. You looked at him, same spot. You visited him the next day, and the next, and the next, following the normal routine that you had established. Nobody would've heard from you aside from the occasional response, but your days were beginning to get lonely. One day, you woke up and didn't go.

It was futile, the days that you visited him consisted purely of silence and the palpable cloud of depression that grew denser every day and followed you everywhere. You've devolved to sitting in your block and sobbing. You begin to wonder if it was your fault that he did that, if it was because you simply weren't listening to him. That must have been it. You recall your conversations before he decided to take his life, and realize that it probably was your fault. He had been depressed. Suicidal. You just ignored him under the pretense that he " was being more of an idiot than usual." What the fuck is wrong with you?

Your mind wanders more as you wonder if he'll even wake up. It's been roughly two months, and it feels like sweeps since he was being the charming asshole that he was. You miss him, but you can't bring yourself to go to his hive anymore. You can hardly hold back your tears in your block while thinking about it, you would come apart in his room. You wonder if he's been dead since you stopped visiting him. The thought breaks you and you start to cry, not holding back a single desperate whimper or murmur of apology. You've broken all focus on anything else, letting the weight of the cloud fall onto you.

" Motherfucker, I said hey." A voice calls out, accompanied by a hand on your shoulder. You turn to look at Gamzee, sniffling and crying, hating him for seeing you like this. Before you can muster up enough rage to yell at him, anxiety of the worst possible outcomes bubble up in your stomach and force out more tears, making Gamzee pat you. After sitting on the floor with Gamzee and a few awkward comfort hugs later, you've calmed down enough to converse with him, eyes red and cheeks discoloured with grey streaks to disrupt the crimson around them. Gamzee ruffles your hair reassuringly.

" Hey motherfucker, no one's seen you for sweeps. You've been givin' us the occasional message, where've you motherfuckin' been?"

" Are you fucking serious!? Have you not even noticed Sollux's COMPLETE absence from your lives!?"

" Nobody gets as worried 'bout Solbro 'cause he's motherfuckin' codin' or some jams. Somethin' wrong with him?"

Already you're feeling your face heat up. Evidently this has happened before. You're just the only person who didn't wait months to see what was wrong, simply storming to his house to see why he wasn't answering. You were the only one so worried about him. The thought almost makes you sick, wondering if he had been sitting in the same place with no care. You don't want it to end like that, without ever having said a word, having failed him a second time. You look at Gamzee, shaking your head.

" No.. No, I need to go."

" What, why, motherfucker? Everyone's all up and worried 'bout you, sure you don't-"

" Yes, I need to go!" You hiss, dashing out of your block and leaving Gamzee dazed. You don't understand these feelings in your stomach, dancing around in graceful flips, letting anger and sadness and confusion overwhelm you.

Back in Sollux's block, he's still just as dead-seeming as always. You step forward and lift him, holding him in as much of a hug as you can manage, sobbing that you were sorry. He managed to stay alive in that time, which seems unlikely, but you conclude that it must've been his lusus. You can't help but sigh sadly, waiting for him to hug you back. Indeed, he wasn't awake. You set him down and sit on the edge of the rectangle, one leg behind you, one on the ground. You stand to get the pad of paper that you had purchased, paper ripped unceremoniously from it for the pictures that you drew for Sollux. You pulled out your pencils and sat down, looking at Sollux and putting your sharpened writing utensil against the white sheet, sketching out a circle for his head like you had looked up. Evidently it's a common thing to do when drawing, and in your opinion, it just hinders you. You do it anyway, the rough circle becoming the base to be evolved from. You draw some squares and circles for his body, trying to capture his slender frame with as little faults as possible.

You take looks at him often, trying to capture the shape of his jaw exactly, and then his face, and then his hair. You attempt to draw those hands, but tossing the pad across the block. You sighed and fell onto Sollux, sighing, " I'm sorry." You expressed, feeling tears soak into his shirt. You stayed rested on his chest and sighed, shutting your eyes.

" I'm sorry I didn't help you when you were depressed, I'm sorry I'm such a fuck-up friend. If I could punch past me in the fucking bulge, I would." You sighed.

Each day that you spent with Sollux before had consisted of naps. Naps on, against, and exclusively with him. You never left his side, so it only came to reason that this day, too, should be filled with naps. It was one of the few times you could spend with him, quickly and quietly, forgetting about why you were there in favour of escaping to somewhere with less pain. What dreams you had were happy and wonderful, horribly vivid or wonderfully realistic, you simply had them. Gentle feelings of something against the back of your head, scalp crawling with foreign sensations, hearing your own humming from the days with Sollux, seeing his hand laced with yours. Dreams that were so vivid, dreams that he pitied you, that you returned the pity. Dreams that make you forget that you're dreaming, waking up to nothing. No awake, piteous Sollux. Just loneliness.

Only you weren't listening to yourself humming. Your throat was dry and you gauged your voice, a raspy, coarse hum escaping. The humming was softer than you heard your voice as, lighter and familiar. The steady rise and fall of Sollux's chest was unbalanced now. _He_  was humming. He was humming the songs for you. The songs that you had hummed for him. His hand was on the back of your head, softly scritching and playing with the hair there. His other hand was laced with yours. His eyes were _open._  They were fucking open. Everything was so surreal, the world had vanished. This seemed like a dream, but you gripped at him, hoping, /praying/ that it was real. You felt your face heat up and you wrapped your arms around him, never wanting to let go. You would never let go.

[ Let's mark POV swaps with this>

<3

Your mind was foggy, your head aching. Your chest heaved, longing for air. Your eyes were closed, and you weren't absolutely coherent. You heard things, but it was a thrum of confusion, a rumbling. You finally heaved your eyes open, taking a moment to observe what was going on around you. Grey. Colourless grey. You turned your head. Mess of your room. You look down. Nubby horns, black hair. Karkat? You sigh. Karkat.

It's a sigh laced with varied emotions. You just want to understand what happened. You were unconscious. It was.. You. You were attempting to end it. The confusion was very unusual, you were dazed more than anything. You were sure you would have died, but maybe your reasoning was skewed in the heat of the moment. Now, you're just humming a song. You're not really a hummer, but you make an exception for this specific tune. Something strums your emotions about it. You decide to rub the back of Karkat's head, remembering distinctly that you enjoyed his company in a strange way. His hair was soft and strange, making you scratch a bit at the course skin beneath. You let your free hand take his, missing him dearly. It feels like it's been sweeps wrapped into a day. He calms you, and you feel yourself begin to become coherent once more, as if you were waking from a sleep.

Suddenly, you feel Karkat stir beneath you. You look down to greet him with open eyes, but he doesn't seem happy. His eyes are widened in surprise, fear, anguish, happiness, and you can see every hint of drowsiness leaving his vibrantly red eyes. His expression wavers before, without a word, his face turns crimson and he begins to sob uncontrollably, gripping onto you like you're his life line. You can hear him screaming muffled apologies into your chest, as well as feel tears stain into your shirt and become cold against your skin. You don't know why he's sorry, why he's sad. You stroke his hair more, starting to speak, having to croak before you can force out your words.

" KK... What'th wrong?" You hack, trying to cough into your arm to regain your voice. Karkat's still crying, and you're not really sure what to do. You put a finger under his chin to make him look up, and he does. He's still flushed and tears are running down his cheeks and he looks like a wreck. You ask him once more, voice clearer.

" KK, what'th wrong?"

" You fu... Ng prick and I fuckin.. Can't believe.. You're such an idiot!" He hisses, sobbing and throwing weak punches at you. You know he's sad, but you can't help but snicker at his adorably pitiful attempts at trying to explain things. He tries again when you snicker, " You've been in a fucking coma for two months, you asshat!"

" Two... Monthth?" You echo, slightly astonished.

" Yes! I spent day in and day out sitting in this room with you when I found you passed out on the floor of your ablution trap with an empty bottle of pills in your hand! Why didn't you fucking tell me!?"

" KK, you thaid I wath being a douchelord. I thtopped bothering you."

" So!? If it was this fucking bad.. I... What if you died..?" His yelling waned to a soft, apologetic mumble. His expression wavered again and he leaned down, arms constricting around your neck. He softly mumbled more, " I can't fucking believe you would leave me like that."

You paused, rubbing Karkat's back. You weren't sure what to say, just rubbing comfortingly. Before that evening, pills in hand and wrists covered in blood, you had fallen for this little douche muffin. Fallen very unwillingly into a flush crush that you desperately tried to crawl out of. This, moments like _this_  are why. He had been sitting with you, humming to you, sleeping with you, and it just buries you deeper into this pit of redrom bullshit that you suddenly don't mind. You look at your desk and then at Karkat.

" What'th that thtuff on my dethk?"

" Huh?" He said, letting go and turning. He gave a little pleased smile, one that you rarely ever see from him, and got off of you. You stood to look at the desk, pulling off sticky notes and reading them.

'BEEN A MONTH NOW. WAKE UP SOON OR I'LL RESORT TO SAD FACES.'

'>:('

':('

'DREW YOU A PICTURE TODAY.'

'YOU STILL AREN'T AWAKE.'

'WAKE UP.'

And only a few more, labeled by days from the first one. You pick up a drawing and look for a moment. You've never been highly impressed by drawings, but flipping through Karkat's discarded book marked incredible improvement from your face, which looked hilariously awful, to you again. The last one was you in a different angle, face carefully and painstakingly sketched out with little real detail, but it almost looked stylized. You wouldn't be so impressed if you hadn't seen the first one. You looked at Karkat and held up the book, to which he pridefully nodded, " Drew all of them myself."

You looked through hard little models of tar, looking at them. They were simple items, your sign pressed into a short dome, maybe a cluckbeast or hoofbeast. Even some stale cotton candy. Did he really have to do all of this? All of these piteous gestures that came at you like a brick to the temple? You held out your arms to him, an offer that the short troll didn't dare refuse. You felt him easing up in your arms, as if your warmth were enough to make every pain melt away. You still held him, and he held you back, neither of you willing to release your new unspoken treasures.


	4. Too Beautiful to Cry

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ~Intermission~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote this for sad solkat reasons. It's an intermission because it's got NOTHING to do with the story.
> 
> I just kind of felt bad for not updating.

You've no idea when this started, but it's a bad practice that you can't exactly help. It calms you, makes you think clearly, something that isn't easy for you to come by when you're in these states. You breath in the thick, disgusting taste of menthol and nicotine, savoring the calm feeling they offer your lungs. You part your lips and release the ribbons of grey that taint the air, wondering if this is good for the flowers. Probably not. You hate that.

This garden is a lovely place. It's not something that you exactly pride yourself in, taking care of flowering plants. Nobody really knows about it except for him. You puff out more smoke with a sigh, wondering why, when you told him, he didn't make fun of you. Maybe it was because you explained your reasoning for keeping them. He must've thought you were crazy.

<3

" You have a garden?"

" Yeah."

" Why? You don't seem like anyone who would like flowers."

" I guess I've lots of reasons for them. I like to think that I'm taking care of something, that I'm just so important that something will die without me. The smell of something so gentle and natural makes me forget what a fucking disgusting addict I am," You pause to flick your cigarette to the ground and stomp it out. You continue, " And I forget what a fuck-up I am when I walk into my garden." You punctuate, looking back at him. He's so short. He's looking up at you with a slightly startled look. You continue, " Problem with a guy keeping flowers?"

" No..." He says, saying nothing else. You both spend a good thirty minutes like that. In silence. He's just admiring all of your flowers. It makes you happy to see that someone else likes them.

<3

You're quietly sitting together. You're not sure when he came over. You're both quiet. He speaks only when you light the first cigarette since he got here.

" I wish you wouldn't smoke, Sollux." He says, twirling a lily by the stem in his hands. You let him pick it. It's dead now, but what is a thoughtless plant compared to him? He's much more important than your flowers.

" Can't really help it. Keeps me sane." You wheeze, starting to cough. You inhale the smoke once more and Karkat offers a grimace.

" It's dangerous."

" So's being suicidal, KK." You say, stoic. He looks at you, taking his eyes off of the flower. You wish he hadn't. He's so beautiful, you want him to look at something else beautiful. You want him to look at the flowers and think of you. You want him to imagine that you aren't thin and pale and horribly aged from smoking.

" Why... Why didn't you tell me you were thinking about that?" He whispers, looking at you. There's hurt in his eyes, worry in his face. It's uncharacteristic, not right. You hate it. He looks so beautiful when he's happy. Even his anger suits him, because that's just who he is.

" Didn't matter. Forget when I'm not in those moods, and when I'm in those moods, I'm hanging a noose anyway." You say. It's not a big deal. It's just death. Something you embrace with open arms. An empty void that you aren't conscious enough to experience. You like to imagine that, even if it is like that, death is a door to a place where you no longer need flowers. Where Karkat loves you.

" Don't..." He whispers, " Do that..." He says. His eyes are watering. You're not used to seeing him cry. He's biting back sobs, and you can tell that there's anger boiling inside of him. Anger and sadness. You hate it. You sigh.

" KK, let me tell you something." You say as you stand. You toss your cigarette onto the cobble, smothering the light. You don't wait for him to say anything. You just let him watch you walk behind the marble bench, looking at your flowers. You continue, " My flowers are something that keep me alive. They're beautiful. They carry a special meaning to me because I smoke and they make me feel cleaner." You turn.

" You're so beautiful to me, KK. When I look at myself, it reminds me what a fuck up I am. I know that you'd never love me. My flowers don't care that I'm hideously pale or that I'm nothing but bones. But they still aren't you." You end. You've taken a step towards him. There are tears now. You put your hand on his cheek.

" I've got small cell lung cancer. Spreads quickly. I'm not healthy enough for chemo and because I'm anemic, radiation is a last-option." You say, quietly. You wish that you weren't such a fuck up. You shouldn't have smoked.

" ... N-No... No you don't, this isn't fucking funny. Tell me this is a fucking joke, because it's not fucking funny!" He yells, tears falling in a steady stream. He's gripping your wrist like he'll die if he doesn't. You lean over. He's too beautiful to cry. You press your lips softly against his, sniffing and quivering stopping briefly. You part after a few seconds with a sigh and he's crying again. You've made it worse now. He's hugging you stiffly.

He's too beautiful to cry.


	5. Forgetting Our Troubles

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Karkat's piteous behaviour is rewarded with some of Sollux's own.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The intermission was really unnecessary. Maybe I put it there because I was having writers block but I really didn't want to end it without them being fluffy! Also, maybe I was procrastinating. Whoops.
> 
> Also, the end of this chapter is suggestive. So, um... I'm sorry.
> 
> I feel really bad about this chapter because they don't talk about what happened much, so I'm chalking it up as they don't want to. I wouldn't want to. Also, my fluff dialogue was way more important at the moment so (e w e" )

After a long and well deserved sleep, a shower, and some food, you are enveloped in Sollux's arms. The specific events that led up to you both basking in eachother's warmth are lost, but that doesn't exactly matter. You're close to him and it's excellent. You're still in his hive, of course, you're not going to leave this asshole alone anymore. You're both just sitting quietly, and it's something that you like. You'd been acting normally until now, until something led you to want this and, moreover, Sollux to accept it. He speaks up and you look at him, colourless eyes staring back at you.

" KK, can I tell you thomething?"

" Why did you need to ask?"

" Because I don't know if it'th an overthhare and I'm kind of procrathtinating becauthe if I tell you, you might not be my friend anymore."

" What could possibly be so fucking ridiculous that I would feel the need to fucking shun you?" You hiss, squeezing him lightly. He clears his throat and ruffles your hair. He seems to be deep in thought which makes you question what he might need to say.

" I'm fluthhed for you."

There's a long pause. You're kind of flatlining at the moment, your brain is not functioning. You are short circuiting between " FUCK YES I FUCKING PITY THE FUCK OUT OF YOU" and " Woah, woah, what". He splutters a continuation.

" I wath really depreththed, and you theemed to not like me when I wath in thothe moodth, and it made me feel like you didn't like me and it got out of hand.. I wath toying with it already and I knew I wath fluthhed for you, no one elthe knew how weird I wath acting, I... Thhit, KK.."

Well. You're crying. That's something that's happening. You can't really help it, you're nuzzling his chest and sobbing and kissing and he's just kind of patting you. You're also cussing at him and softly hitting him, trying to sob angry phrases like " you're an idiot". He snickers at this gesture. You're definitely sure that you look fucking stupid, but that's not really the point. You're pretty sure you always look stupid to be perfectly honest, but that's also not the point. No, the point of the matter is that this asshole is wrapped around you like a fucking quilt and you love it.

<3

The atmosphere of the room is ungodly perfect. You just feel fucking giddy with Karkat in your arms. His cheeks are warm with cooler grey streaks on them from tears, his chin is resting on your shoulder. You're both just holding eachother, and while you'd love to take his response as an acception to your confession, you're not going to take any chances with Vantas. You turn your head and crane it back so you can see his face out of the corner of your eye, just under the arm of your glasses. You grin a bit, maybe getting ahead of yourself, but shit if you aren't excited.

" Does thith mean what I think it meanth?"

" I will rip your spine out and shove it up your nook if it fucking doesn't."

You wiggle your eyebrows and he hisses. You snicker, because damn, you couldn't help it. He gives an angry little sigh and puts his chin back on your shoulder. He is adorable. Fucking adorable, a piteous masterpiece. You're not sure why these are the words coming to mind, you're pretty sure they only ever came up in your little spats with KK in the night. He uses absolutely too many adjectives among improvised words. One insult could fill your screen with grey text, and it astounds you that he can type so quickly. Like, shit, he should put those fingers to use in his codes. That's more of an intelligence thing, you suppose.

You shut your eyes and shuffle further into a reclining position on the cushioned rectangle, helping KK brace himself. Once more settled, you sigh. A kiss would be nice. Would he let you kiss him? You want to kiss him, so fuck it. You wrap an arm around the small of his back and pull him closer, other arm wrapping around his neck and pressing your cartilage nubs together. He's so red. Neon red. You've seen him bleed before, and it almost makes you a bit angry that you have. Not that it didn't make KK trust you further when you told him you weren't going to cull his dumbass. This is how you would'd like to have found out. Close to him, face red. He's actually quite, dare you say it, cute like this. You tilt your head a bit to join your lips, coaxing a chirp out of KK. /Fuck/, cute is definitely the right word.

He's much smaller than you when it comes to height, but he's much heavier than you. He's got a bit more muscle than the average troll, as well as fat, but it makes him a bit cuter. You wish you had more body mass, but you never really feel a burning need to eat or excercise, so you're just a lanky mess of bones. You slip your hand up KK's shirt. He's pretty warm, and his face is incredibly red. You turn him over and he doesn't resist, just grumbles angrily. His stomach is definitely softer than yours. You squish it and can't help but laugh a bit.

" What. The fuck."

" Hehehe, you're thtomach ith much thquithhier than mine.."

" Go fuck yourself sideways if you're going to be calling me fat!"

" Thhit, KK, that'th not what I meant.."

You softly plant a kiss on his cheek, making his face burn even more red than any of your other kisses. It's really endearing how weak he is to these sort of things. You grin softly and nuzzle his neck, resting your chin on his shoulder, feeling like this is one of the cheesiest moments you've ever experienced. Because it is. You decide to keep groping him, half to spite him, half just to grope him. You trail one hand up his jumper and the other to the hem of his sweatpants. He makes an excellent little noise of surprise and uncertainty.

" I won't do anything you aren't comfortable with, KK."

" I know that, fuckwad, maybe I'm just embarrassed because this went from a moment of cheesiness to fucking... Just to fucking!"

" Well maybe I'm horny."

" You are fucking ridiculous."

**Author's Note:**

> UGGHHHHH. I FUCKING WANTED SO HARD TO DO SOME LEMONSSSS.  
> Point being, I had a two-month procrastination and learning binge. I have the lowest fucking attention span for organized works of any kind, e.g., a solkat fanfic.  
> I don't know, I'm not the best writer ever. If one person wants me to add a lemon chapter, I'll do it, but shit. I don't know even who I'm writing this for. (u n u )


End file.
